Northern Exposure
by TheLadyAranel
Summary: Troubles unfold when the Elven-King ends up in our world with no memory as to how he got here. After certain events he finds himself in the care of a young woman. What happens to an immortal being when he is placed in a world without magic and any sure way of returning? He attempts to tell her who he is, but doubts Audrey truly believes him. **AU** Thranduil/OC T for now.
1. October 31st

**TheLadyAranel**

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 **October 31st**

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 _It's said that All Hallows' Eve is one of the nights when the veil between the worlds is thin - and whether you believe in such things or not, those roaming spirits probably believe in you, or at least acknowledge your existence, considering that it used to be their own. Even the air feels different on Halloween, autumn-crisp and bright._

 _Erin Morgenstern_

October 31st Somewhere in Northern Michigan, 2012

Audrey Burnett sat curled up in her blanket watching television as the autumn wind swirled outside her home. Beyond the enclosure of her small abode, the overly hilly countryside whispered softly as all Hollows Eve drew closer. Tonight, witches, goblins, ghouls, and banshees roamed freely, closing the gap between their world and hers. The voices of otherworldly specters shrieked out into the brisk autumn air, filling the atmosphere with an eeriness that no one could ever explain with words alone. Outside that little cottage home, something was amiss; something was at work. As the unseen came to pass, a storm rose from the north. The eye of it focused on the enclave within which sat Audrey's humble dwellings.

There were no street lights in this small corner of the world, nor were there neighbors for as far as the eye could see. It was only Audrey and the pair of golden eyes that belonged to a particularly fat black cat, called Lando. He was her only companion in the house and currently found himself curled comfortably at her feet, purring lazily in his slumber. As the swirling vortex of the autumn coils crashed against the home, the lights began to flicker off and on. Audrey was exceptionally thankful for him in those terrifying moments. In her self assuring way, she told herself that if Lando could remain calm in the face of a power outage, then so could she. The twenty four year old pulled the fleece blanket closer around her body, though she was already beginning to sweat. It had been a habit of hers ever since childhood; as long as she remained covered completely from head to foot, there was no chance any ill could befall her. It was Halloween, she couldn't be too careful.

Ever since the sun had fallen three hours prior, a strong sense of uncertainty had pooled in her body. While the storm outside grew to its peak, so did her apprehension…something wasn't sitting right. It was as if the thin veils of reality were being pulled from beneath her and a terrible trepidation gripped Audrey by the throat, crushing the life from within. Her burning flesh from under the blanket became like ice and her head began to throb. A feeling of nausea flooded over her senses but as she moved Lando from her lap for fear of purging, the sensation ceased to exist. Almost as if it had never occurred in the first place, which left Audrey feeling even more apprehensive than before; though less woozy. Again the lights in the home fluttered with the whirlwind raging outside. Finally the lighting blacked out all together.

At first the only thing Audrey could do was breathe. Foremost in, then out, in, and then out; her eyes were tightly closed. Every move that Lando made scampering about the wooden floors made her heart race with anticipation. Childishly in her head she conjured thoughts of all the things she had seen that night on television and relayed them over to her current incident. Alfred Hitchcock's _Psycho_ slasher music played on repeat in her head, followed by the unmistakable noises of the extraterrestrial life forms from M. Night's _Signs._ Somewhere in the recesses of her overactive imagination, Audrey had even feared that if she opened her eyes, she may come face to face with a Wolfman who just might be keen on severing her head from her body. In short folks, she was a complete and total scaredy-cat. When Lando jumped back onto her lap, Audrey gasped in a terrified breath—following a rather over reactive scolding focused on her feline friend. At least now her eyes were open, already well adjusted to the dark. She needed to move. For the first time in hours Audrey stood from her couch, letting the blanket fall to the floor in a heap. Her surroundings were much colder once that extra layer had been shed, despite the fact she had been wearing a rather toasty navy-blue turtleneck. Audrey shivered, rubbing her shoulders to regain composure and warmth; she stepped over the blanket—bravely—and meandered over to the kitchen to find a flashlight.

Stepping closer into the dark abyss of her one-room home, Audrey had stuck her thumb in her mouth and bit down hard to keep from shouting at every gust of wind that hit the siding. In a short distance she had made it to the kitchen, refusing the look out the window above the dishwasher. An active imagination was something she prided herself in, but also deemed it her worst flaw. In that particular moment, the last thing she needed was to peer out into the night and see Bigfoot trellising closer towards her. The very thought had her fumbling rapidly for the _Maglite_ that she had kept in the left drawer, just beneath the sink. After searching for what felt like forever, Audrey's shaking hands finally recognized the cold metal against her fingertips. Grabbing hold of it, she slammed the drawer shut and turned on the light. It took a whole other caliber of courage to turn back around. When she finally had, at her feet were the eyes of a rather indifferent Bombay cat, meowing in a way Audrey had deemed his way of mocking her.

"Stop looking at me like that, eh?" Her voice broke unevenly as a low roll of thunder rumbled in the distance. "Good God…I never would have survived in a time without electricity."

Spinning the flashlight in her palm and deciding it best to put on her slippers—feeling as though her naked feet needed protecting—Audrey then contemplated if she should even try going outside into the cellar to flip the breakers. For a moment she considered just leaving it be and going straight to her room; barricading herself in there until morning. Lando meowed again, taunting his petrified owner. Somehow Audrey doubted that if she chose to take the easy way out, Lando would let her live it down. So gathering all her courage, which was very little, Audrey clicked her tongue for the cat to follow and made her way to the front entry.

Hesitation is what kept Audrey from opening the door. All of her idiotic ideas set aside, something truly did not _feel_ right. There was a presence she hadn't recognized and the more she watched that fat cat and the way his ears prickled forward, Audrey knew Lando had felt it too. Unlike her however, the feline was completely fueled by curiosity and wanted nothing more than to go outside and check it out for himself. Sickly, his owner considered telling him what killed the cat. She bit her tongue conversely and focused in on the possibility that someone may in fact, be outside her home.

It wasn't unlike the teenagers in the area to wreak havoc on the unexpected homeowners in the country; especially on Halloween. Last year Holly had been a victim of a rather nasty toilet papering and much to her displeasure—car egging. Last time despite the fact that, she had heard them and for all purposeful knowledge, she had also been with power. This year the weather was cold, dreary, and the storm would have kept all the hooligans inside. Never minding the fact that there literally had been no noise aside from the thunder and the wind…so why was there this nagging feeling that somewhere on her property, something had seriously gone amiss? Some people believe in the intuition of high power and its ability to give you premonitions of what lies ahead. For all her crazy hair-brained imageries, Audrey liked to think all of that to be a load of crock. She hardly took anything of the supernatural to be true—at least on a ghostly level. So she chalked up her nervousness to the scare of the storm and the time of the year. (Very noble of her indeed) She wasn't prepared to leave her house unarmed, however. So prior to unlocking her front door, Audrey reached over on the coat rack and unhitched the pepper-spray can from its holster, before slipping on a jacket. Wielding liquid death in one hand and a fairly heavy _Maglite_ in the other, the twenty-four year old thrust open the door and watched as Lando happily and ignorantly skipped outside. Sucking in a deep breath she followed suit, out into the storm.

The rain had yet to start falling at any rapid rate, but as the lightning flashed across the sky, Audrey shrieked. Repeatedly she cursed herself for finding that small ounce of courage within; continually telling herself as soon as she found Lando it would be back inside for the both of them until morning. She wasn't even going to risk going down into a deep cellar—who knew what might be down there? She called out continuously for her cat, all while slowly trudging the perimeter of her small home. Audrey's trepidation returned with each corner she cut, fearing what could be lurking around any of them. Thunder blasted out in the air again, and this time she let a 'fuck' roar out of her lungs as she dropped her flashlight in fear. Rain began to pour down, which soon soaked her to the bone.

Sinking into the sodden ground, Audrey fumbled with her hands trying to find the flashlight, which had gone out when it fell. It was like a scene from a horror movie, which always ended in the girl being hacked into small pieces by the predator lurking in the shadows…

"God damn it," She seethed, "This would happen to me…where the fuck is that flashlight?"

Leaning further into the mud, her fingers brushed against metal and as her hand firmly gripped the handle of the light, her heart eased. That was until she heard Lando hissing and growling, not too far behind her. Part of Audrey was afraid to turn around, her initial fear of confronting Bigfoot popping into her head again. The last thing she wanted to do was fight off a hairy ape-man for her cat. Sickly she debated if the Bombay was even worth it…but when he hissed again, she knew she had to do something. Standing up, Audrey's grip on the light grew tighter. Convincing herself it was the right thing to do, she spun around—nearly falling down in the mud—only to freeze in fear from the looming shadowy figure she encountered.

In the darkness the creature appeared ominous, with great horns protruding from its head. The figure was tall, broad, and towering over Lando, whose haunches were on end. Like a hellish beast it reached out its arm only to prove that it wielded a blade that glistened against the hoary droplets and LED lighting of the flashlight. Audrey's eyes grew to the size of saucers, more afraid for her cat than for herself at that moment. When the being reached down to grab hold of Lando, his master lunged forward and scooped up the black fur ball before retreating back to where she had been standing. It was then that she had frozen in fear; unable to move. The shrouded creature took a step back, before holding out a hand and speaking in tongues. Audrey's knees grew weak. "St—stay back! I'm warning you! Just go away and leave me alone."

The creature with the horns stepped forward, outreaching his hand towards the two frightened beings before him. But before he could take hold of Audrey, she had dropped Lando to the ground and as he took off running, she positioned the pepper-spray where she could only hope her assailant's eyes would be and held down the trigger. A horrible painstaking scream confirmed her target had been hit and while defenselessly holding onto its eyes—having dropped its weapon—Audrey used her flashlight to drill it hard in its groin, smiling slightly with pride as it doubled over. "I don't know you! And that was my cat, asshole!"

For good measure she sprayed the can in its eyes again, before hauling butt back to her home. She locked the door as soon as she knew Lando was safe. Then running into her room—which she also locked, she tried the phone. When there was no dial tone, she cursed herself for not having charged her cell. It would have just been her luck to have some horn-wearing psycho outside her house, carrying a sword and she would be without a way to call for help. Barricading herself in, Audrey moved her dresser in front of her bedroom door and sat on the edge of her bed, waiting. After an hour or two of silence—having stripped off her wet clothes and in new warm pjs, Audrey found that sleep took her. She slept uncomfortably, fully knowing that when she woke, Audrey would have to deal with the demon outside her home. It was a notion that had her tossing and turning all night, afraid that the creature would break down her doors.

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 **A.N.: First time ever trying to write a Thranduil story. I know its AU but reviews are delightful. I'd be indebted.**

 **also, keep in mind that while Thranduil is in deed himself, he may seem less graceful than his Elven self. As the summary says, things change for him in a world without magic.**


	2. Stranger Danger

**TheLadyAranel**

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 **Stranger Danger**

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 _"Now, as we stand three feet apart and stare at each other, I feel the full distance that comes with spending so much time apart, a moment filled with the electricity of a first meeting and the uncertainty of strangers."_

 _― Marie Lu, Champion_

The following morning, Audrey had an epiphany. She had pulled apart her room searching for her portable USB charger; still afraid to remove the dresser blocking her bedroom door. The breakers still needed flipped. Upon finding it in an old shoe box filled with photos, old concert tickets, and some misplaced odds and ends, she nearly squealed with joy. As long as the energy stick of life—rightly naming it so—had enough juice to give her cellphone a jump start, Audrey would be able to phone for help. And here she thought it was just some dumb and redundant gift her brother had given to her last Christmas. Johnny would be happy to know it quite literally—in his sister's opinion, saved her life. Plugging in the USB end of the phone charger and connecting her lifeline, it was the first time she could consider who she might call.

There were the police in town, some thirty minutes up the road, but how would they react to a phone call from a woman who claimed a horned-demon-man-thing had been roaming around her property last night? It after all it had been Halloween and there were most certainly a number of laughable phone calls pouring into the station. Even if they gave her the time of day, there was no guarantee they would even send a squad car her way until mid-day, possibly even into the following morning. So that ruled out the men in blue. Staring down at her phone and the little red light in the corner, which indicated it was charging, Audrey's mind fluttered to the one person she knew she could count on. Holding down the power button praying for enough battery life to turn the phone on, her fingers fluttered to the touch screen buttons so quickly that she nearly dialed the wrong number. In a rush she held the phone to her ear, biting down on her fingernails and mumbling for her brother to pick up his damn phone. When he finally answered, Audrey sighed with relief.

"Hey you, have fun last night?" Johnny's voice on the other end was groggy. He had either just woke up or his sister's call had done so.

"If you call roaming around my house last night after the power went out a good time, then yeah it was a God damn party. Look, I know you are busy but I need you to come over, like right now." If her words sounded hard to believe, her tone in using them made up for any doubt.

Johnny sighed and Audrey could hear his wife Jessie mumbling something incoherent on her end of the phone call. They spoke between themselves in hushed tones before John went back to his cell. "Audrey, hun…it's almost two hours to your place from here, and the traffic over the bridge is going to be insane. What is going on?"

"There was someone outside my house last night. I couldn't call for help because my power went out…so I went outside in my pitiful attempt at trying to go down into the cellar, to see if I could get it back on. Then this freak with a sword—"

On the other end a fit of coughing ensued; Johnny cursed the hot coffee that fell onto his shirt. "A _sword?"_

"That's what I said. Anyway, I got him good with that pepper-spray you gave to me…I was so freaked out I didn't even try to go into the house to find my car keys…I just locked everything up and stayed put until morning. I'm not even sure if he is still out there, but I would feel a lot better if you would drive over here to check everything out…I'm still freaking." Audrey's breaths were shaky as she recalled her terrifying night. There were more hushed whispers over the phone, nothing decipherable. Not that Audrey needed to hear any of it mind you; Johnny's wife of three years dictated everything her husband did and had to know every part of every situation involving him, thoroughly. The last thing Audrey needed was for Jessie to interfere. "John…Johnny, I wouldn't ask you if it weren't important, you know that. If I call the police they won't take me seriously. You know everyone around here is probably blowing up the station's phones, anyway. Please…please Johnny. I don't even care if you bring Jessie with you." And really she didn't care. With any luck the freak with the horns and sword would get her.

"Jesus Audrey…look, I'm going to call the police and then head over. I still have the keys to the cottage so don't freak out if you hear someone out front in about two hours. I'll honk my horn in my truck so you know it's me and it's safe to lift the gates of Fort Knox, okay?" Somewhere his house Jessie was throwing a fit.

"Thanks Johnny…Thank you big time. I owe you." She hung up the phone and gazed out her bedroom windows, praying for time to pass quickly.

Outside the wind was still whistling about, the sheer strength of it unbelievable. Although the sky was blue, it was overcast; miles off the rolling of thunder was still looming. It looked so _cold_. Not long now and the notorious Upper Peninsula weather would have Audrey snowed in until spring thaw. God she was thankful all of this wasn't happening then. However small a blessing, she was willing to count it. Lando meowed from his perch on her bed. "You need to go outside don't you?" Audrey reached up from her place on the floor, scratching the top of cat's head. "Well, I can lift you out the window but I'm not moving that dresser." He had meowed approval at her improvising.

Sighing heavily and hauling her person from the floor, Audrey stumbled over to the window and peered outside. From the south part of her property everything seemed clear; no indication that whoever had been stalking her had even attempted to round the entirety of the perimeter. Deeming the coast clear, she threw open the window and lifted the metal screen. Just as she was about to reach down to pick up Lando, he leapt out the window and sprinted towards the front of the house and completely out of his master's view. Audrey felt utterly alone.

Stretching out her arms above her body, the cool autumn wind rushed inside the room and she relished in it. Having locked everything up last night, the wood burning furnace had made everything rather toasty and once the sun rose, quite uncomfortable. So the little burst of fresh air was a God sent. Not willing to risk anything happening, after about five minutes Audrey promptly locked everything back up. Lando could survive outside until her brother or the police showed up…

Just as the two hour mark passed, Johnny had pulled up in his truck. Audrey had seen later on that day he had tried to call when he got there, but her battery life had been so low that the damn thing had turned itself off. So instead he honked the horn on his truck just as he promised, going down into the cellar before popping in on his sister. There were curses and exclamations exchanged between Jessie—who arrived with him—and Audrey, regarding the barricade she had created with the dresser blocking her doorway. It ended quickly enough thanks to the peacemaking skills of John. He had apologetically winked at his sister, knowing full well she hadn't meant it when she said that bringing his wife along was alright. Yet after Johnny had explained to Jessie what his sister had claimed to have gone through last night, keeping his wife at bay was impossible. Jessie loved to play detective. She had even suggested going about the whole thing _Scooby-Doo_ style and splitting up to look for clues as to where the mysterious horned-man could have gone; Audrey earnestly reminded her that he had been carrying a sword. In the end, Johnny was the one to—yet again—keep his sister from murdering his wife. Once the cat fight was put to rest, he analyzed the situation. "Addie, you said you got him with the pepper spray? After that you have no idea what happened to him right?"

Audrey nodded, pulling a Michigan Central hoodie over her head. "He's probably left by now, but I didn't want to take the chance…I'm sorry for having you come all the way out here…it just freaked me out…I mean on Halloween of all days. It was beyond bizarre."

"Are you sure someone was actually there?" The voice of Jessie was like nails on a chalk board. At the nasally sound of her voice, Audrey shuttered. Jessie was grinding on her sister-in-law's last nerve. "I mean, really Audrey…John even checked outside the house. The only footprints are yours. It's like you were fighting a ghost."

Audrey stumbled into the kitchen, pulling her long hair back into the crappiest bun ever. She reached for the coffee pot and popped some bread into the toaster. "First off, _Jessie_ , I didn't _fight_ anything…and even if it was a ghost…it was a ghost with a sword. I did mention the _sword_ right?"

Her brother's wife rolled her eyes and took the cup of coffee that Audrey had offered her. The small gesture of civility in that strong cup of joe wasn't lost on her. "I don't doubt you might have _thought_ you saw something. It was storming so bad last night and with the power cutting out, I think anyone's imagination would run wild."

To that comment Audrey said nothing. She literally couldn't say a word. Jessie was right about that; her imagination was rather overbearing last night. She fluttered her eyes in embarrassment, unwilling to admit she had been terrified that her assailant may have been Sasquatch. So instead, she shrugged off the whole thing. "You're probably right…I'm really sorry for having you guys come all the way up here."

Johnny shrugged, pulling his jacket on. "Don't mention it. You had me kinda worried Addie…I'd still like to check out the barn and shed though—just to be sure." Intuition told him his sister hadn't been lying or even fabricating what she had told him. The practical half of him however, felt that perhaps his wife was right, and that Audrey may have been spooked by her conditions. Whichever scenario it might have been—he prayed it was the latter—Johnny didn't like leaving loose ends, especially when it came to Audrey.

"By all means, go right ahead. Just be careful of the barn door, it has a tendency to—"

"Stick," John finished his sister's sentence. "I know. If you recall I was raised here too and that barn door has always been a pain in the ass."

That comment made his sister smile, its significance lost on his wife. The old cottage and the property it rested on had been in the Burnett family for a time out of mind. Once her parents died, there had been talk of abandonment, as well as an auction. Out of the three Burnett children, Audrey had been the only one to step forward and claim it. Her two older siblings had been too caught up with life and all of the wonders that come with it, leaving their childhood home to their little sister. Unable to afford the entirety of the property, Audrey had been forced to sell the larger farmhouse—which subsequently had been torn down. So it was just the small one room guest cottage, the barn, shed, and fifty acres of land. Making the decision to let go of the house was the hardest thing she had ever done. So in hearing that Johnny remembered the time they spent in this place—remembering what was now only faded memories—it made her feel good.

"I won't be long. Jessie, you can wait in the truck if you want." John opened the front door and made his trek to the barn, leaving the women in the kitchen staring after him.

After a moment of silence, Jessie turned her gaze to Audrey. "Johnny told me you were all from Escanaba, originally."

Audrey obnoxiously sucked her teeth and stared bewildered at her brother's wife. "John was born there. Diane was born in Mackinaw City. By the time I came along, Da inherited this property north of the bridge."

Jessie shifted her weight, trying to follow the younger woman's conversation. Originally from Kentucky, the southern belle was still trying to come understand the terminology her husband's northern family used. "So you were born in Sault Ste. Marie then?"

The coffee Audrey had been drinking caught in her throat as she laughed. Coughing and placing a hand over her chest to steady her breathing, she grinned wide at Jessie. "Yeah, I am…but you say it ' _SOO_ _Saint'_. Not _Salt_ Saint…You're such a Trooper."

"I'm sorry, a what?" Jessie's face grew agitated, unsure of what kind of insult Audrey was throwing her way.

She smiled. "Not from the upper peninsula, but you moved here. Kinda like how you call us Yankees. You're a Troll if you live south of the bridge, a Yooper if you live above it. So if you're a Troll and you move up here, that makes you a Trooper. Now that I'm thinking about it, both my siblings are Troopers too."

Jessie shook her head, "You're all very clever I'll give you that…well look, I hope everything is okay now. I'm going to head out, John should be back soon. Take care, Addie."

Audrey nodded and said the same, walking her to the front door just as Johnny was making his way back. "Find anything?"

Johnny pulled out his truck keys and shrugged. "Not anything pertaining to your horned-devil, no. But the horse got into some pickers…I tried getting as many off as I could, but she'll need tending to I'd imagine."

Sighing, she nodded. Thanking her brother again for his trouble, she promised to call if anything strange or unusual should happen. Standing in the doorway, she waved them off as they drove down the gravel road and headed back towards Mighty Mac. Still lingering in the doorway, Audrey took a deep breath in and released it. She should have felt better after the thorough investigation of the property, but somehow the apprehension was still there, like a rain cloud over her head. Something was still amiss and no matter how hard she screamed to herself that everything was alright and she had imagined it all…Audrey couldn't convince herself. And even if she had envisioned some guy with a sword roaming around, that wouldn't explain why Lando had also been wary. Speaking of Lando, she hadn't seen him since she opened the window to let him out… Cursing under her breath, she slipped on her boots and trudged outside, not bothering to lock the door.

The saunter to the barn was one Audrey could have lived without. Cold, still a tad rainy and all muddy, these kinds of days were always better inside; accompanied by a good book and some hot chocolate. But no, she was out in the fray, pulling her boots up from sinking into the muck, trying to find her stupid cat. Who was probably nice and warm, tucked away into the straw inside the walls of the barn. And even if he wasn't, she could at least take a look at the horse while she was in there. Although picking pickers off of the creature wasn't exactly what she'd call a fun experience. Opening up the door to the barn, Audrey had to wonder how Dolly could have even acquired them. It wasn't like there were picker-bushes near her pasture—which Dolly had access too any time she desired—in fact, the only pickers around were down by the crick. Which was at least a quarter mile from the house and Dolly wouldn't have been able to access it unless the gates were opened…which they weren't. Things were definitely muddled.

Once inside, Audrey called out for Lando but to no avail. If the little shit was there, he wasn't going to come out anytime soon. Expecting as much, she turned her attention to the stable where the chestnut mare stood, eating hay that Johnny had scooped from the pile just outside the stall. There was a cut above her left eye and her mane was tangled with the tiny burs. "What happened to you, sis?" At the sound of her dear friend's voice, Dolly nodded her head and moved closer to her owner. She rested her wounded eye against Audrey's shoulder. "There, there. Mama will take care of it. All we have to do is keep it clean and dry, eh? We will take care of that as soon as I get the pickers out of your pretty hair… Seems we both had a wild night, eh?" Audrey cooed and patted the creature as her own fingers suffered, pulling each spiky ball from the mane. Once or twice the horse neighed in pain, but as soon as Audrey spoke to her, Dolly calmed right down. It took the better part of an hour to finally have it free of tangles and the like.

After that, she tended to the cut. It wasn't so much deep or wide, but if not cleansed it may very well have festered into something nasty. Audrey just didn't want to take the chance. She loved Dolly, possibly even more than Lando—the little shit. Then again, the once prized race horse had been the last gift Audrey had ever received from her father. He had bought Dolly for her when she turned twenty-three, from an auctioneer in Saginaw. In her day, Dolly raced with the best. That was until an incident had occurred during one of the laps in a chase; one in which scarred the horse bad enough, she never raced again. Dolly had been in second place in that contest, trailing behind another mare a few years younger than her. As dedicated as the creature was, her jockey pushed her too far and too fast. The poor thing's heart burst in mid-run, collapsing in front of Dolly. It spooked the chestnut so badly, she was ruined. Her name was pulled from every roster, and no trainer could get her to set foot back onto a track. That was when Audrey's dad had offered a pitiful sum of six grand to buy the mare, and then he gave it to his daughter, who loved Dolly more than anything else. It was an instant friendship…one so powerful, no words ever needed to be spoken between them for there to be understanding.

"There you go, sis." Audrey brushed antiseptic over the cut, and patted her hand under Dolly's chin. "I still have no idea how you even ended up doing this to yourself." Putting the bottle of ointment down on a stool, Audrey reached over to grab a brush to run over Dolly's coat when the horse reared and snorted in defiance to her touch. Doing everything she could to try and calm Dolly down, her owner instantly knew something wasn't right. It wasn't like the mare to behave the way she was and Audrey could only assume she was doing it out of fear. But fear of what? To think she might have been scared of Audrey was absurd. For a good minute the young woman was puzzled beyond measure. That was until the hairs on the back of her neck bristled on end. She fumbled in the pocket of her coat for the pepper-spray and in finding it, dropped the brush from her hands and spun around, aiming at whatever might be standing there. What she saw, she hardly believed.

Standing no more than five feet from where she was, had been a man. Tall, broad and gripping his side in pain. In his left hand he held a crown—the horns Audrey had assumed she saw the night before. His eyes were bloodshot, understandably. Anyone's would be after having their eyes sprayed with hell-fire. It gave him an ill appearance, though the blue of his irises pierced through any doubt that he was still very much capable of killing her. From behind a pale and pained face, a waterfall of toe-head hair sprawled down his shoulders and back. The clothes he wore were in serious need of an update. Audrey thought he looked like he just came from a renaissance fair.

" _You!_ Stay back…" At her warning he stepped forward, and for a moment Audrey was afraid he might pull his sword—which to her surprise, she didn't see. "I said stay back!" Her finger pressed down on the trigger of the spray can, as a warning. The look returned to her was one of pure malice…it frightened her. She knew of no one who looked so determined.

"If I were you, I would not dare to use that." His voice was dark and deep; commanding. As he stepped forward again, he winced in pain. His eyes widened and mouth gaped with each breath he drew in. Dolly reared again and realization hit Audrey.

"You tried stealing my horse! She threw you off didn't she? Well, I could have told you that if you hadn't been so God damn creepy. Hey… _HEY_ , I said stay back! What the hell is your problem?!"

A pure expression of annoyance slipped onto his wounded body. As it appeared, he was trying to stand straight. "I've lived many lifetimes and have yet heard such foul obscenities fly so loosely from the mouth of woman—even one so acquainted to homeliness as you."

Audrey's jaw dropped in utter disbelief. She could have taken to being called a bitch a lot easier than being insulted so…elegantly. "Excuse me? You're the one who is trespassing on _my_ property and tried to steal _my_ horse. Not to mention flinging that sword of yours around…do you even know how to use that thing? For being wounded I'd expect a little more gratitude from you. I haven't called the police yet—or tried spraying the shit out of your eyes again."

"What use is a weapon if you have not the skill to wield it? Your inquiries are redundant at best. As for trying to harm you, if I wanted you dead you would be…" His voice trailed off as he lost strength and slumped down, leaning on a beam. Audrey never thought to run over and aid him; if anyone fell under the category of 'stranger danger' it was the medieval freak with the crown and sword.

"How did you even get here? There isn't anything for miles around." She questioned him carefully; his previous words of being able to kill her playing over in her mind. She honestly believed him.

He rolled his eyes, smugly. "Had I the faintest idea as to how I came to be in this wretched place, do you not think I would have remedied it and left by now?" Even talking seemed to be taking a toll on him. "Why don't you make yourself useful and fetch your husband—or the healers perhaps. I'm certain I've attained internal injuries."

Audrey's head cocked to the side, her foot stamping the ground and her arms folding over her chest. "If you broke ribs, that's your own damn fault. There ain't a husband, either. And the hospital is hours away. Maybe you should rethink your situation, buddy…I could take a look at you…but you have to throw that sword out of grabbing distance." And she meant it; despite thinking that maybe this guy had escaped the funny farm and she was pretty sure he had said 'healers', he was still a living, breathing being.

The look of heated anger never left the stranger's face as he unsheathed his sword and effortlessly tossed it aside. His head cocked to one side, a grim smile tugging at his lips. His eyes burned, and he waited.

Slowly making her way over to him, Audrey knelt down by instinct; she first placed her wrist to his forehead, which he did not appreciate. He slapped her hand away. "Did you just hit me?" She scoffed. "Listen asshole, I said I'm trying to help…which is more than your trespassing butt deserves…" When he didn't answer, Audrey stood up and reached above their heads, into a cubby where she kept blankets for Dolly. Snapping one out, she draped it over the stranger's torso and legs. She noticed he was shivering. "You need to be seen by someone. You're running a fever."

"That is impossible. My kind are immune."

"Oh really, your _kind_? Because you're burning up; you need to see a doctor."

His eyes twitched. "I thought you said there weren't any for miles."

Audrey shrugged. "There isn't. The closest one is where I work, and I'm not taking a stalker into my workplace."

A low, irritated grumble escaped his lips. "Then I suppose we find ourselves at a standstill."

Audrey rubbed her shoulders and groaned at the thought that passed through her mind. Johnny was a family practice doctor…she could call him. He wouldn't be home yet. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her phone and started dialing, but paused. "What's your name?"

His head tilted back to see Audrey's face without obstruction; those blue orbs burning a hole into her core. "Thranduil, King of the Elves of Northern Mirkwood." He stared in wonder at the phone in Audrey's hand.

The young girl's mouth closed tightly after gaping in hilarity. She continued to dial her brother's number. " _Oooookaay_ then…" Yeah, he definitely escaped from the loony-bin.

* * *

 **A.N.:** Here is the second chapter. I hope you all enjoy it, and if you do, please **REVIEW**

The updated cover is actually from the TV show Northern Exposure, which in turn seemed the perfect title for this story.

U.P. Slang Used in this Chapter:

Pickers- Burs or stickers

Trooper-someone who lived south of Mackinaw Bridge

Troll-someone who lives south of Mackinaw Bridge

Yooper-a person who lives north of Mackinaw Bridge

Eh-put at the end of almost anything said by a Yooper. It can mean anything from 'right' to 'okay'

Mighty Mac-The Mackinaw Bridge

I won't really type out the northern accent of Yoopers...trust me, we are hard to understand. I will use the above terms a lot though, along with others. :) Don't want to confuse anyone.


	3. A Bittersweet Goodbye

**TheLadyAranel**

* * *

 **A Bittersweet Goodbye**

* * *

 _"I feel sorry for anyone who is in a place where he feels strange and stupid."_

 _― Lois Lowry, The Giver_

 _"_ _Audrey, what do you mean_ _ **he is sitting right there**_ _?!"_ Audrey should have expected that response from her brother. Actually, what she expected was for him to throat punch her through the phone.

"He's not going to hurt me. He can barely stand upright. I'd take him to the hospital, but I don't need him knowing where I work…and I don't think he even knows where he is, if I'm being honest." She cupped her hand over the speaker of the phone, whispering so Thranduil—or whatever he claimed his name to be—couldn't hear her…or so she thought.

The Elven-King had however, heard every word; even Johnny's responses. Albeit the blank expression on his face gave way to ignorance, so Audrey was as clueless to his keen sense of hearing as any in this strange place. He continued to stare ominously at the device held to the human's ear, scrutinizing it mercilessly. It was a form of witch-craft no doubt; one of the foul trinkets that more than likely had him transported to this strange place. Thranduil was no fool; he was well aware he was no longer in Arda. Here in this forsaken land much of his power had depleted. Where he was once swift and responsive to his surroundings, the King found that he now fumbled. Magic was neither in the roots of the trees nor in the wind of the air, and now…now he was ill with fever. Something was terribly wrong…something had _gone_ terribly wrong. Worst of all, Thranduil could not remember the slightest detail of how he came to be in such a strange place. The more he thought on all of this—the more he listened to the human's conversation; Thranduil knew he must tread carefully. Without his essence whole in such a foreign world, he was fragile and unwoven. Part of him considered that this place housed none of his kin. It was terrifying to contemplate, yet all the same he had come to terms that it was a possibility.

His head pounded with the most surreal headache he had ever experienced. Never in all of his days had he the displeasure of purging, but just then a wave of nausea—or what he assumed nausea might be—flooded over him. He sucked in a deep breath and held it there, concentrated on the conversation between the two siblings…one of which he could not see. From what he could pick out from beyond his searing head, Thranduil swore he heard a third voice…one rather high-pitched and in his own opinion—annoying. He blocked it out and focused on the heavily accented female voice of Audrey and the male vocals. What he heard was not to his liking.

"Johnny…I'm serious…I don't think he had any intention of causing me harm. Granted he tried to steal the horse, but I honestly think he was just trying to get away. He said he is the King of Elves or some absurd nonsense. He needs to be seen by a physiatrist. Not to mention a doctor. I'm pretty sure he broke some ribs and if not broke, he seriously bruised them." Audrey was still whispering, unaware of her eavesdropper.

"Addie, you're a fucking fool. You stay away from him! Do you hear me? You have no idea what he is capable of, and if he is mentally unstable, that is all the more reason for you to get the hell away." He already disliked the formless voice of Johnny. Had the tables been turned, Thranduil would have ordered a spell in the dungeons for him. Elf-kin or not, no one spoke so brazenly of the Elven-King in such a manner.

His ears perked as he heard Audrey sigh.

"John, I know I'm not earning sister of the year award or even coming close to being your favorite person at the moment. Regardless if this guy is just sick or sick in the head, he needs to be seen. At least help me get him far enough away. Maybe we can take him as far as St. Ignace? Even you said yourself I shouldn't be alone with him. He might be hella creepy, but he's still human…or Elf…or whatever." She glanced over at him. The last thing she needed was for him to go psycho…especially if he really thought he was an Elf. Calling him human may well be the death of her.

Audrey walked over to him just then, offering a small smile which he did not return. His icy stare did not betray his resentment towards the whole situation. She sucked in a mouthful of air and scratched the top of her head, waiting for her brother's response.

"…An hour and a half I'll be there…if he needs Tylenol for the pain give it to him. Ibuprofen would work better if he has swelling; it's an anti-inflammatory. Just be careful if you give him it though, especially if he has internal injury. It's also a blood thinner." Johnny's voice was irritated, but resolved.

His sister bit her lip and stared down at the blonde once more. Their eyes locked and for a moment everything seemed to stand still. He seemed so…serene. Even in his pain. "Thanks, Johnny." She hung up the phone and let her eyes trail to the sword that had been tossed. It had landed near the entrance to the barn. Slowly she moved towards it, her eyes never leaving Thranduil's. He too watched her like a hawk.

"Do not dare to touch that." His voice was laced with venom, his eyes burning so fiercely that they pierced Audrey's very soul. Either he was one hell of an actor, or this guy really thought he was a king. "It is not a weapon forged for mortal hands."

Audrey was frozen to the spot. Though she was completely convinced this guy was a crackpot, one could not rebuke the fact that he held himself rather mightily. She was _almost_ afraid to touch the thing…the thin blade hollowed and cold. The whole sword looked more like a work of art than an actual weapon. She wondered… "Have you used it? I mean, have you killed with it before?"

Thranduil cocked his head and raised his brows so smugly, Audrey wanted to punch him. How could he look so cool, composed and yet still so arrogant? "What use is there in having a blade if one does not utilize it? Are you full of nothing but uninformed queries?"

That had done it. Audrey smiled sweetly at him, raising her middle finger and then lowering it to the sword, touching it just so. " _Fuck_ you and your ill-mannered, _etiquette_. Blow it out you Kingly ass."

Thranduil's mouth fell open at her sheer audacity. Audrey had to suppress a giggle, seeing him gape as though she committed treason. She picked up the blade and held it by the hilt. "I'll give this back to you once we get to St. Ignace. For now, I'm going to keep it with me—for safety and reassurance. Now, do you want Tylenol or Ibuprofen?" When the blue eyed blonde refused to answer her, she shrugged. "If you want to sit in pain for the next hour and half be my guest. I was only trying to help."

Through his narrowed eyes, the King of Mirkwood fought the agony raging inside of him. His head was still pounding; the nausea still very potent in his stomach, and his side ached dreadfully. "Are they both forms of healing?"

"Seriously?" She sighed through her fed-up laughter. "They are pain-killers… _mild_ pain-killers. Come on dude…"

Never in all his lifetimes had he ever felt stupid. He was not fond of the sentiment, especially when being made to feel so by a _mortal girl_. "Will it cure a migraine?"

She shrugged. "Yeah…suppose it would."

He sneered while watching her grip his sword. "Then bring me the more potent of the two."

Audrey shook her head in disbelief, trying to remind herself that this guy was seriously sick. "Right then, I'll be back… _Your Majesty_."

After thoroughly inspecting Thranduil's sword and snapping a least fifteen photos of it—Audrey had a thing for vintage looking _anything_ —she placed it under her sofa cushions for safekeeping. She then grabbed a bottle of Tylenol from her bathroom's medicine cabinet, a cup of water from the faucet and stumbled back outside. On her way back to the barn, a familiar meow revisited her ears. Looking down to her right, Lando was hobbling along as best he could in all of his fatness. She chided him playfully; they both entered the barn together.

Getting the King of Mirkwood to swallow the red and white pills was worse than trying to bathe her cat. Continuously Audrey tried to convince him she wasn't trying to poison anybody, but still the damned lunatic wouldn't budge. Eventually, she had to take two pills herself and after twenty minutes of sitting in front of him, proving that she wasn't going to die, Thranduil finally consented to taking them. Of course, not without difficulty; clearly he had never taken any pills before. Or again, he was one hell of a performer.

He complained that the water was foul and that the pills sat ill in his stomach. Audrey tried to explain to him that it was well water he was drinking and that sometimes medicine would upset one's stomach if they hadn't eaten anything. When she asked him when the last time he had consumed anything was, he seemed utterly puzzled. The last thing she wanted was to invoke any kind of episode from him, so she told him not to think on it, and went back into the house to get something for him to eat. Upon returning the second time, Thranduil—she noticed—was rather pleased with the apples and cheeses she had brought with her. For her it was good to know that at least those two things were common in the la-la land he created as well as the real world.

As he reached over at the plate of cheeses, his hair swept over his shoulder, revealing a sight Audrey could not tear her eyes from. His pointed ears had the hairs on her arms and neck standing on end. This guy was really committed to the world he created. It was a realization that gave her very little comfort. He noticed her gawking. "It is rude to stare."

"Sorry," she whispered, "I've just never seen…" Her words fell short as the sound of Johnny's Ford came revving up the drive way.

"What monstrosity makes such vulgar cries?" Thranduil spoke more out of agitation than curiosity.

"Not a Ford guy? Let me guess, Chevy?" Audrey realized her jest went right over his head. "Never mind. Just don't insult his truck in front of him okay?"

Thranduil watched on as Audrey left him where he sat and for a moment trepidation gripped his heart. He remembered well enough the conversation that took place a few hours ago; he had not resolved himself to their plans for him. Try as he might to appear to be one of _them_ , if only for the sake of staying away from the _looney-bin_ Audrey spoke of, was harder than he first anticipated. It was one thing to blend in with your enemies and make them believe you were one of them—given the right information to do so. In this place however, everything was different. The way they wore their clothing, carried their bodies, and most certainly the way they spoke, were all prominently different. Thranduil was still baffled by Audrey's mouth. He knew not of _one_ female of _any_ species in Middle-Earth who would dare to use just vulgarity. And to a _King_ no less… The Elven Lord may well have backhanded her in her disregard for him early, had she been within range. Surely all of this was a horrid nightmare from which he would soon wake? Yes, that was a comforting thought indeed. Soon, he would wake in his chambers within the safety of his palace and Audrey, her evil communication device, and the horrid sounding Ford would all be a very distant and repressed nightmare. Hushed voices from outside the barn brought the King back from his musings. With less of a headache thanks to the elusive _Tylenol,_ Thranduil honed in on the conversation with his keen Elven ears.

From what he could tell, Audrey was seemingly defending him. _How peculiar indeed_ , he thought. Never in his wildest imaginations could he have conceived to think that the ill-tempered human would harbor any sort of sympathy to his plight. Yet as he listened closer, it became painfully obvious that his plight was misconceived. She truly had thought him ill in the head and dared not to believe his origins. Audrey thought him insane. The Elven-King closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He should have expected as much, even if the only person teetering on the brink of insanity was her. Thranduil's eyes opened when the voice of John broke through his sister's ranting. If he had hoped for a male presence to be the voice of reason, the ellon was mistaken. This John was rather _more_ adamant about the king's mental state than Audrey had been. Was there no end to these mortals' insolence and debauchery regarding him? The words he heard come pouring out of John's mouth slandered Thranduil. How _dare_ he insinuate that Audrey had been in danger of him! That he might have violated his pathetic sister in a cardinal sense! To accuse him of such was punishable by more than a stint in the dungeons. If he'd the strength or ability to silence the fool—oh how he _longed_ for his sword to be returned to him! Thranduil heard their footfalls as they made their way back to him.

"This is him?" A broad figure stepped over the threshold of the barn. The King hadn't needed to assume it was anyone but Johnny. In Thranduil's eyes he looked to be of Dwarven stock; a sandy yet bushy beard seemed to be his preference in wearing his facial hair. Though it puzzled the ellon immensely to see his hair secured to the top of his head much the way Audrey's was. There was no Dwarf he knew of that wore their tresses in such a manner. Perhaps he wasn't Dwarven after all…though the hatred that seemed to fuel his demeanor said otherwise. Thranduil only knew of one kind of species that loathed his kin so terribly fierce. But if Johnny was a half-bred, was his sister?

"Yup, that's him. Thran-drool of the North Elfwood or some nonsense." Audrey bit her thumbnail, leaning her weight against her hip.

The Elven-King did not spare her his scornful gaze. He had the most impeccable way of appearing emotionless and at the same time, _terrifyingly_ forceful. " _Thranduil_ King of the Northern Elves of Mirkwood." Each syllable was enunciated to perfection.

"My bad," Audrey threw her hands up in defense. "Don't get your panties in a bunch."

Johnny shook his head while stepping forward and crouching down in front of Thranduil. "All right, Thranduil. My name is John Burnett…I'm a doc— _healer._ " He peered back at it his sister, remembering what she said about this guy's idea of medicine. "I can take you someplace where trained people can care for your wounds, but I need you to cooperate."

Audrey bit her lip trying to hide her laughter. Her brother was in for a rude awakening if he thought Thranduil was going to take being treated like a child lightly. Yet to her stunned amazement, the blonde simply closed his eyes and nodded in what could be interpreted as consent. Her head jerked back in shock.

"Good…I'm going to try and make room for you in the truck. I'll keep in mind that you've damaged your ribs. Did Audrey give you anything for the pain?" Her brother's voice was softer this time around. He probably felt more at ease knowing getting Thranduil to a hospital wasn't going to be a hassle.

"Your good sister is an amateur healer at best, but thanks to her tenderheartedness I believe I am feeling up for travel."

Audrey stomped forward, her arms crossed. "Okay, what the hell is going on? What happened to the homeliness regarding my etiquette, hm?" She wasn't buying his bullshit ruse for one moment.

"Homely etiquette, eh?" Johnny chuckled. "Well, I can't disagree with him if he truly did say that, Addie. You're mouth isn't exactly virgin-like."

"You're an asshole."

"My point," he sighed, "Sorry if her vulgar mouth offended you…it's just how she is. Audrey has never played nice with others…though I can't exactly blame her. What with you roaming around her house last night and all that business that took place."

Thranduil shifted from his place on the floor without saying a word in response. The familiarity these people used with him was being to wear on his patience.

"Right then…well, I'm going to go get the truck ready. It's just going to be you and me buddy. Think you can make a couple hours ride to St. Ignace?"

Again he nodded, willing John to leave him be. What choice did he have in the matter? Clearly none—especially if they already questioned his lucidity. Once Audrey's brother had left, the Elven-King turned to her. "What will become of me?"

Audrey played what he said over in her mind, thinking how best to respond. Chances were, they would treat his wounds, give him a psych review, and he would probably be shipped to a mental health correctional institution. Something inside of her though thought it best to leave out the finer details. "They're going to fix you up. Then, you'll more than likely be free to go. Back to Mirkwood, maybe…if that's where you need to be." She knew it wasn't right to feed into delusions, but what the hell? It wasn't like she was going to see him ever again.

"Why do men feel the incessant need to lie? Does it not burden your soul?" He sounded so hateful when addressing her this time. Eerily, Audrey felt as though her mind were being picked and prodded through. Almost as if he were reading her thoughts and delving deeper into them to find the truth.

"Why would you think I'm lying?"

His eyes darted to her being then, blazing into her very soul. It tore away at her until Audrey could no longer meet his gaze. For her, it was just another eerie example of his oddity that she didn't understand.

"Istan quetë ya merin, ar lá hanyuvatyen… Úcarnet nin, Audrey."

She shook her head slightly, unable to grasp what was being done to her being. Raising a hand to her face, she realized she was shedding tears. What in the freaking hell was he doing to her? "What the fuck did you just say?"

He turned his body from her then, using all of his strength to raise himself from the floor of the barn. His silk robes fell from his shoulders as he summoned the will to walk passed her and towards the Ford. He stopped only for a moment, tilting his head in a manner that commanded authority. "I would see my sword returned to me as soon as possible." With that, Thranduil continued to walk away.

Jessie ended up passing him on her way to Audrey.

* * *

 **A.N.:** I want to thank everyone who reviewed as a guest, seeing as I can't PM a thank-you. They make my heart soar. Please keep them coming! Any comment is appreciated beyond measure. Truly...and wholeheartedly. I'm happy to know all of you find this original and are pleased with the AU I've chosen to write. If this ends up being a hit-LETS MAKE THAT HAPPEN!-I may highly consider doing one for other popular characters from the Hobbit. :) There is a poll posted for said subject, please feel free to take it.

 _Istan quetë ya merin, ar lá hanyuvatyen… Úcarnet nin_ : I can say what I wish and you will not understand me...You betrayed me.


	4. Journey to St Ignace

**TheLadyAranel**

* * *

 **Journey to St. Ignace**

* * *

 _"Our society tends to regard as a sickness any mode of thought or behavior that is inconvenient for the system and this is plausible because when an individual doesn't fit into the system it causes pain to the individual as well as problems for the system. Thus the manipulation of an individual to adjust him to the system is seen as a cure for a sickness and therefore as good."_  
 _― Theodore J. Kaczynski_

"I need a cigarette and a drink." Audrey folded her arms over her chest, heaving heavily from the upset of tears. She had been talking to herself; not that her sister-in-law cared.

"Its eleven thirty in the morning," Jessie chided, "seriously?"

"All the more reason to drink, I'd say. Did you fucking see him?"

Jessie smirked, "Tall, fair, handsome?"

"He thinks he's a king, Jessie. An _Elven_ king. He could look the spitting image of Ryan Gosling and still be bat-shit." Audrey turned around and closed the barn door, latching it.

"So _tall_ …he has to be six foot five at _least!_ "

Audrey reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a Marlboro Red. "You need a smoke after that thought? If you like tall, why the fuck did you marry mister five foot nine?"

Jessie scrunched her nose at the cigarette, ignoring Audrey and her innuendos. Rubbing her shoulders, she watched as Audrey lit a match and took a drag. "From your bad habits to your foul mouth I don't know which is worse…can we at least go inside while you slowly kill yourself?"

"Da never liked smoking in the cabin. You can go inside if you want. I still need that drink."

"Audrey!"

She sighed, rolling her eyes at Jessie. "Fine. Would you approve, mother dearest, of some Bailey's Irish Cream in a cup of coffee?"

"Actually," Jessie bit her lip, "that sounds lovely."

* * *

Thranduil sat rigidly and uncomfortably in the horrific Ford. The roaring that came from within the beast was most unsettling and for a fraction of a second, the king wished to be facing the dragons of the north, rather than sitting in the bowels of this creature. Another prominent issue was the Tylenol that Audrey had given him was starting to wearing off, which only confirmed Thranduil's speculation that the medicine of this world was useless. There was no use in trying to move to get comfortable; clearly dwarves occupied the strange seats. He had no leg room.

"You can move the seat back." Johnny eyed his passenger carefully from the driver's side. His one hand was on the steering wheel, the other turning down the heat in the truck. He noticed the bewildered look on Thranduil's face and shook his head. "The lever under the seat, just pull it up."

At first, Thranduil refused to acknowledge anything the half-breed said. Yes, he had convinced himself Johnny was thus. Yet after another mile of his legs cramping to the point of mind searing pain—never minding his throbbing chest—the Elven-King reluctantly bent forward, feeling under the seat. Biting down on his tongue from the flooding of agony that washed over his side, Thranduil nearly gasped with joy when he found said lever. In an excited rush he pulled back the metal bar rather anxiously, flinging his chair back at rapid speed. The episode ended with the King of Mirkwood's upper half somewhere in the back seat bench.

Johnny jumped, startled at first. Then, when the shock had passed and he noticed Thranduil pulling his body from the passenger seat and rest of the way into the back, he roared with laughter. "Should have been wearing your seatbelt; I warned you didn't I?"

Thranduil sneered, sighing in another wave of pain, lying back on the bench seat. He sprawled out his long legs as best he could in the confines of the back, his left leg resting comfortably on the floor, his right slightly bent at the knee, propped against the backing of the bench. "I would not trust a woven clasp with my life…not in this _abomination_. The thought is absolutely absurd."

"Well then," Johnny chuckled, "You'd probably have a field day concerning air-bags."

 _You're an air-bag,_ Thranduil thought. "I'm not interested."

* * *

Filling two cups of coffee, Audrey poured the Bailey's into Jessie's, sneaking the Captain Morgan Coconut Rum 90poof into her own. She needed something a little more substantial after her bizarre encounter with Thranduil. Somehow, she wasn't completely convinced he hadn't by hook or by crook been able to read her thoughts. A guilt rose in her then; mostly from his parting words to her…none of which she understood. It wasn't even a recognizable language, of any kind. His very presence seemed ominous when he uttered those completely meaningless sentences…so perfectly…flawlessly…

"What was his name?" Jessie walked up beside Audrey, who hurriedly closed her liquor cabinet, hiding the evidence of foul play.

"What?"

"What was the blond bombshell's name?"

Audrey blinked incredulously. "You're kidding me right? How in the hell can you be obsessing over a delusional, sick, sick, man?"

Jessie shrugged her shoulders coyly, sipping at her drink. She knew if she remained quiet, not giving way to any kind of further inquiry, Audrey would talk.

The younger woman stood there, her arms placed behind her as they rested on the countertop. She was beginning to get a headache herself and the words spoken to her would not leave her mind. By no means was Audrey clingy, attachment-crazed, and yet at the same time she wasn't completely ambiguous towards the opposite sex. She liked to consider herself open minded about the people she let into her life, not excluding those she would keep out. Thranduil was definitely someone she should keep out. So why then, did his face and those words keep replaying over and over in her mind's eye? Why could she not simply stand firm in the fact that he had tried to steal her horse, was wielding a sword, and could have very possibly killed her? All of those were perfectly fantastic reasons to be ecstatic at having him shipped off, never to be seen again. But then again, there was his voice…the look in his eye…as if she betrayed him. As if Audrey had thrown him to the dogs, knowing full well they would devour him.

"Hey..Addie are you all right?"

Audrey lifted a hand to her cheek and cursed again at the tears she found there. "I'm fine. Just still shook up I guess…" She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cigarettes again. Walking towards the front door and turning over to unlock it, she paused. "Thranduil."

"Huh?" Jessie continued to sip her coffee.

Putting the smoke between her lips, Audrey laughed quietly. "His name is Thranduil. He is King of the Elves of Northern Mirkwood."

Jessie nearly choked on her drink. She set the cup down on the table and brushed the back of her hand over her mouth. "Jesus…You know what…I think I will have a smoke with you."

* * *

"What is this place?" Thranduil peered out the window of the Ford, his eyes widening at the sight. Never in all his six thousand years, had he ever gazed upon buildings of such magnitude. Some of which had nearly reached the heavens, gleaming so bright against the pale warmth of the sun, that it reminded him solemnly of starlight. Other forms of transportation such as Johnny's Ford were all about them, some in motion while others rested. For such unsightly things, they proved useful if only for long distance travel. Thranduil would still have preferred his Great Elk.

"Mackinac Straits Health System; we've finally made it to St. Ignace." Johnny explained, giving up on the bewildered expression his sister's intruder held. Soon enough he wouldn't be their problem anymore and he could carry on his charade with the doctors of the hospital. "I'm going to park and then get you checked into the E.R., all right?"

Thranduil felt no need to answer, his eyes still scrutinizing the layout before him. The ellon was proud, as a King of Mirkwood should have been. He had faced dragons, orcs, goblins, and far fouler things he did not wish to recall. Yet for all his victories and feats of strength, there was trepidation inside of him when he viewed the sliding doors of the hospital. Our world confused him, crushed him, and broke him. He knew not what to say to the people beyond that threshold, nor could he muster an appropriate alibi and false identity. Thranduil was in a hopeless state of panic, though his outer appearance was composed and poised. He tried terribly to remember anything that might prove to give answers to how he came to be in this place. Though the harder he tried, the more his mind began to ache. It was no use. All he recalled from days prior was his son capturing Dwarves, led by Thorin Oakenshield, and then the next moment he awoke in an oncoming storm, just beyond Audrey's barn. None of it made any logical sense. And if it did not add up for Thranduil, how could he expect anyone inside that foreboding place to believe it? Audrey and Johnny had made it clear: Elves did not exist in this universe. They were nothing more than myth. The Ford stopped moving and the roaring from within ceased.

"Okay, Thranduil." Johnny sighed, scratching at his beard and turning around in his seat to face the man. "They are going to ask questions, question that if answered, will make this whole process go a whole lot faster."

"Pardon me, but I thought you said this was a place of healing. Had I known there would be an interrogation against my person, I would have refused." There was no sarcasm left in his voice. He was afraid…terrified of what might happen.

"It's not an interrogation. Just medical questions, family members they can contact…the usual. Are you willing to provide that to them?"

Thranduil sighed but did not answer, again unsure of how to do so. There were too many things running through his mind for him to be able to properly access the situation at hand. Not to mention the pain that was beginning to resurface. So Johnny took this as a sign that he was willing to cooperate, and opened the door to let the Elven King out.

Their slow walk to the E.R. doors was one of the most daunting occurrences Thranduil had experienced in hundreds of years. People fluttered in and out of the automatic doors, which puzzled Thranduil; for he felt not magic connected to its source of operation. He questioned John on its ability to perform its task, which was met by an irritated facial expression. The only response given to Thranduil was that the glass doors were motion-censored, or otherwise by weight. Yet without magic in the mix, the Elven-King was still rightly puzzled by it. For how could an inanimate object—normally—such as a door, move by way of sensing the presence of a body? He let the inward investigation go as they approached the desk.

From behind bulletproof glass sat two blonde women. At first they did not take notice of the men in front of them, and for half a second Johnny thought they wouldn't any time soon. Then to his surprise, Thranduil spoke. "Pardon me; is it not your job to promptly tend to those in need? How dare you sit there and fondle over your poorly treated nails as if they were in more need than I."

Johnny bit his lip and sighed. So much for Thranduil's fear of the hospital—it seemed his Highness wasn't keen on being ignored by anyone. "Sorry about him," he apologized, "Thranduil, buddy why don't you have a seat? I'll sign you in." John pointed to the far corner of the waiting room, trying to find a place to put him far enough away that he wouldn't be able to disturb others. He waited until the injured man was seated before turning back around to the administration. "He needs a physical. He might have broken ribs, possible concussion…a psyche review."

The woman pushed a clipboard full of papers towards Johnny, under the opening in the glass. She appeared in no way amused. "He will need to fill these out. Once he's completed the them, bring them back up."

Johnny thanked the woman and grabbed a pen from a canister before walking over and plopping down in the seat next to Thranduil. "Here, fill these out." He offered the clipboard. When Thranduil didn't take it from him though, and looked at it as if it were some foreign and unwanted object, Johnny cleared his throat and resigned to helping him. "You know today was my day off…but whatever…okay, just answer these questions best to your ability, all right?"

Thranduil placed a finger over his lips, resting his elbow against the arm of the chair. He nodded slightly.

"Name?"

"John, you know my name."

Johnny sighed. "Remind me again."

"Thranduil of Mirkwood would be sufficient I would think." Pathetically he thought only of keeping his kingship from their knowledge. He watched as Johnny scribbled down his answer.

"Date of birth?"

"The First Age."

"Excuse me?" Johnny slapped the pen down on the clipboard, staring disbelieving at Thranduil.

"Or roughly six thousand years…which ever you wish to scribe. I care not."

Johnny took a deep breath, glaring viciously down at the clipboard, then back to Thranduil. Shaking his head he put down: December 15, 1985. At least that was plausible. Looking down at the next line, Johnny found himself hesitant to ask the following question. "All right…how about family? Wife, kids, parents? Anyone you want to put down as an emergency contact? Anyone who would be willing to release your information to?"

Thranduil's eyes grew dark then. A light seemed to flicker and dim from within him and his eyes glazed over in remembrance. "My son, though I do know of any way to contact him."

"It would be better than leaving it blank." Johnny explained.

"Very well then," Thranduil whispered, "His name is Legolas."

"Cool name." Johnny mused, writing it down and ignoring the further contact information. He didn't bother asking Thranduil for his insurance information, willing to guess he didn't have any. Nor did he even begin to try and pry his social security number. For his address, Johnny simple put: Mirkwood. After everything had been filled out, it was hard not to want to rip up the documents. What had been written on that page was pure idiocy at best and no one was ever going to take it seriously. All it was going to do in was secure the idea that Thranduil needed serious psychological help.

"John, what is the _loony-bin_?" Thranduil was staring outside as he spoke, his cerulean eyes sparkling. "Audrey had insinuated that I had escaped from it."

Johnny could have killed his sister. Straight up, he could have throttled her. Sometimes he wondered if Audrey's head was screwed on straight. "Well, that's not exactly a great name for a mental-hospital, but it's a place where sick people stay…like sick in the head." How else was he supposed to explain it to a person like Thranduil?

"I know Audrey thinks me mad. Truthfully, I cannot fathom that I would have reacted any differently, had the situation been opposite. To be a stranger in a strange land is not something I would wish upon anyone, though to be _alone_ in one is far worse." The King paused a moment, seemingly reflecting upon his own words before continuing. "I never intended to harm her. Without fail I swear to you I do not know how I came to be in such an…oppressing and saddening world. There is no joy in this land, John… there is no love. Can you not feel it in the air you breathe, in the actions of others?" It was then Thranduil came to realize something. It had been more of an epiphany than anything else; a reason for him to have been brought to this world. For in his palace deep within the earth, hidden from the rest of the world, he had been cruel. By his hand and the turning of his eye, he had let the world around him fall into despair and dared not raise a hand to stay Middle-Earth's foes. He had ordered a blind eye be turned…that no one might enter his Kingdom, and no one should leave it. Perhaps the Valar sought to teach him a lesson for his malcontent. A lesson in humility.

"That was deep." John mused, staring down at the papers. "I have to turn these in…I'll be right back."

Thranduil drew in a breath and gasped in pain. Whatever was ahead of him, it could not be any more painful that what he was experiencing currently. Or so he thought. From across the room a rather large and threatening woman snatched the clipboard from John and stared down at his writing. She pointed over towards Thranduil and John nodded his head. Thranduil frowned.

"Look at you, lookin' like you just came from the medieval fair. C'mon get up, let's go. I ain't waitin' all day for you to get your long legs over here." The woman frightened him, but he slowly rose and _slowly_ walked over to the pair across the room.

The woman looked at John again. "You staying out here, waiting for him?"

"I believe he—" Thranduil tried to explain that John had been his only way to the hospital and possibly his only ride anywhere else when the woman nearly swiped him with the clipboard.

"Was I talkin' to you?"

John had to bit his lip from laughing. Thranduil's face turned wicked with rage and fear, his eyes measuring the large woman who stood only a few inches shorter than him.

"I'll be out here." John promised, resting his hand on Thranduil's shoulder. "I put myself down as your primary physician, so should something come up, they will call me."

Thranduil still eyed the woman, giving a slight nod of his head in John direction. "Do you think I would fair better in the loony-bin, than in the hands of this she-beast?" His whispered.

John shrugged. "Just do as she tells you…try following orders for once, instead of giving them."

The King of Mirkwood was not amused.

* * *

 **A.N.:** Sorry an update took as long as it did. I'm afraid with my work schedule finding time to update is hard. I apologize. Hopefully this makes up for it. I may have stretched the end a little too much, but after a hilarious review I received, I couldn't resist spicing up the character of the nurse attending to Thranduil. I also struggled writing his character in this chapter. Another reviewer was kind enough to state that my portrayal of him was spot-on and for that I was over joyed. I only hope I didn't make him too OOC in this chapter.

I hope the answer to why Thranduil felt betrayed by Audrey is a little clearer in this chapter as well. :)

Please **REVIEW!** Its lets me know I don't spend hours typing a tale that no one cares to read. Haha.

Thanks again guys, for the Favorites/Follows, and the last two reviews. Blessings -Aranel


	5. Discharged

**TheLadyAranel**

* * *

 **Discharged**

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 _"I talked to a calzone for fifteen minutes last night before I realized it was just an introverted pizza. I wish all my acquaintances were so tasty."  
― __Jarod Kintz_ _, This Book Has No Title_

 **Two Weeks Later**

After the whole incident over Halloween, Audrey had found herself back at work, Thranduil completely absent from her mind. She carried on, having heard neither word nor mention of the Elven-King. Johnny had even taken him off of his patient lists at hospitals, entrusting Thranduil's care to the psyche physicians. It seemed that everything had gone back to the way it had been before that blistery night; for once Audrey was thankful to be at work. She hadn't lied to Thranduil when she told him she worked at a hospital. Her particular position encompassed sitting at a desk and entering ER patients into the system. The political correct term was Patient Access Representative, yet Audrey liked to think of it as 'everyone's secretary'. From punching in insurance information, to running white emission bands to numerous RNs, Audrey and her coworkers did it all. Like the little cogs that turn a machine, intertwining between the gossip and the workload, they knew all. Nothing slipped past their ears and eyes—especially when it came to doctors and patients.

It was a Thursday afternoon; Audrey had just gotten back from lunch. The small little office, accessible only through badges, was littered with RNs, LPNs, Med Techs, and of course, Patient Reps. Half of their noses stuck to a screen, the other half honed in on a sheet of paper. Completely lost, not to mention utterly confused, Audrey dared to ask what it was they were all staring at. At their response, she nearly fainted.

"They just brought some guy in from St. Ignace. You missed it! He was the craziest ball of nuts I've ever seen. Long blonde hair, super tall—he looked like he just came from Narnia." One of them was laughing uncontrollably.

 _Oh God,_ Audrey thought. "What's the name?"

"Thran…duil…Thranduil?" The tech giggled.

"Mirkwood the last name?" She didn't _need_ to ask, so Audrey didn't know exactly why she had. An old habit perhaps or maybe it was simple verification that what had happened two weeks ago wasn't just in her head.

All the eyes looked to her then as she stood in the doorway, her hand over her badge.

"How did you know that?"

She looked to Pam, the girl who had been talking since the moment she walked through the door. Audrey had worked with her for almost five years now; they shared everything. "That's the guy I found outside my barn. Why was he transferred here?"

That had done it. Every woman in that small office was buzzing with the new juicy gossip on their hands, each one with the craziest questions imaginable. Burnett was hit with everything from how long she had spent with him, to if she had gotten a glimpse at his goods. At the last question, she was utterly repulsed. What she wanted to say was 'Yes, I ask to see the penis of every guy that stumbles into my barn'. However she held her tongue. The last thing she needed was rumors being spread by the nurses of the E.R., especially now that she had a good thing going with Mitchell—another tech. "I didn't even go with him to St. Ignace," Audrey defended herself. "I didn't even know he was still north of Mac."

Pam saw the desperation in her friend's eyes and closed the window with his information. "Alright ladies, enough poking into people's personal files. Let's get back to work. We have five people in the waiting room ready for triage."

Thankfully no fight was put up and the montage of estrogen filed out and into their workplaces, while the RN on duty took the next patient back. Once the last drifter had left, Pam waited until Audrey was at her computer to talk. Even then, she spoke in monotone and her eyes never left the screen. "He was brought here to be discharged. They are sending him to the shelter I think. Amnesia is what he was diagnosed with. Doctors are ordering follow-ups, but he was brought here to the ER for vaccinations. Corporate Health wouldn't administer them without a valid I.D…which he doesn't have. The Feds were in here earlier talking with him, trying to figure that shit out…"

Audrey threw her head into her hands and took a deep breath. "Jesus H Roosevelt Christ…all of this happened in an _hour_?"

"The hour you left for lunch, doll." Pam was clicking away at the mouse and pointed to the sign-in time. "I'm guessing he will be back there for awhile yet. They have him in room twenty…do you want me to take it?"

By 'taking it' Pam meant going in to verify the information they had—or in this case the lack of information they had—on file. It was the Reps' job once the patient was sent out of triage and into a proper room in the back of the ER.

Audrey sighed again, pulling out a clipboard and throwing together the papers. "No…I got it. You're stacked to the max with edits. Besides, I saw a squad pull up…I'll need to get that information while I'm back there as well."

"All right girlie," Pam shrugged. "What's for lunch in the cafeteria?"

"Calzones."

After grabbing the information from the ambulance in room five, Audrey mentally prepared herself for the short walk to room twenty. Part of her honestly hoped there would still be doctors in the room; that she would have to come back later to verify Thranduil's information. However this was not her luck. Out of every soul in the hospital that was anxious to get a glimpse at the man of mystery behind door number twenty, Audrey would be the one to show up at just the right moment. The RN had just walked passed the curtain; her blood samples in hand. A rather pudgy doctor from floor three exited shortly after, nodding politely to Audrey. Taking a deep breath, she entered the room. What she saw was just as shocking as the day she met him.

Thranduil's face was drawn; tired looking. His suffering was not lost on her, for Audrey could see the devastation written all over him. Yet for all of this, he still appeared flawless…ageless. Albeit swallow in complexion, completely aloof to his surroundings, Thranduil was still the same mystifying being she had met not two weeks ago. And still…changed somehow. At first, she didn't know what to say. Seeing Thranduil sit in that chair void of any emotion was pitiful. Truthfully this wasn't what she expected. What had happened to the snippy, sarcastic asshole? Audrey couldn't help but feel that all of this was somehow her fault.

"I just need to verify information," She whispered, still in disbelief. There truly was no point in asking. "Are you Thranduil?"

Cerulean eyes shot up at her. They were cold, pleading, and so full of fear. He was pale; his body length slouched against the back of the hospital chair. Thranduil opened his mouth to speak. "I never thought to see this face again."

His voice…so weak.

Audrey blinked back the tears that seemed to surface every time he spoke to her. She rolled her eyes at the pointlessness of asking him for any information on that stupid clipboard. Throwing it on the table next to her, Audrey stepped forward yet stopped when he held his hand out.

"Go away, Audrey." Thranduil sighed. "Leave me in peace. I have not the time for more lies."

That was a sharp pain to her heart. As if someone had taken a needle and pierced it repeatedly. "Thranduil, I'm _so_ sorry…let me help you."

The Elven-King scoffed then, his own eyes seemingly on the verge of tears. Or so Audrey thought they were. " _Help,_ from you? I think not. Where was your help when I was left to the suffering of those physicians and their barbaric tests? They placed me in a madhouse! They took my clothing and threw me in straps to a hard mattress, cold and alone. I saw neither the light of day nor the stars at night. And now you pathetic girl…now you wish to aid me? _Get out_."

Audrey stood there in her blue scrubs, her eyes burning. She never meant for him to suffer, yet she could find no words to voice it. Both had stared at each other for a time, one crying apologetically while the other stared cold and unfeeling. Sniffling, Audrey nodded her head in compliance. "Alright," she whispered, "But I'm going to make it right, Thranduil. You're being released today…"

He sneered. "Forgive me if I don't bound up and down with joy."

Standing in awkward silence was daunting. Looking back at one another, neither saying a damned word, Audrey could see the pain behind those orbs. It was a pain like none she had witnessed before; there was anger. A deep seated hatred that poured out from him, one that made the girl in front of him all the more miserable. This wasn't what she wanted. Audrey may have been hella freaked out, but she never expected the situation to be handled quite like this. It was exactly how Thranduil described it: barbaric. And that wasn't for the lack of care from the doctors or nurses…it was something else. Something else that even though she couldn't explain it, it made the man that sat before her appear as a wounded animal in confinement. Thranduil was a being that didn't belong in that whitewashed room. Could that be explained with science and medicine? No…by those standards he was ill. Yet, take away the voices of modern reason and you had something supernatural; you had an ethereal being suffering at the hands of twenty-first century cruelty. Now, that wasn't to say that Audrey believed that Thranduil was anything but a mortal man, confused and bewildered. But there was something different about him, something that made her well aware that staying in the city would be the end of him. She couldn't let him go to the shelter. Thranduil would slowly wither away in a place such as that.

"Ill just need some signatures from you…" Audrey's eyes never left his as she handed over the clipboard which she picked up with the papers to sign.

It wasn't to her surprise that he didn't sign them. In fact, he smacked the board across the room; it hit the wall and fell into a spray of loose documents. His eyes burned a vicious hole into her head. "I said: _Get. Out."_

Tears filled her eyes as she gathered the paperwork, clipping it back in place. She dipped her head to hide her embarrassment, the tears falling onto the ink filled pages. Audrey cursed numerous times under her breath until she regained her composure, and scribbled down on a number on a piece of paper. Then, standing up straight and blinking hard she outstretched her hand to Thranduil. Of course, he didn't take the page from her, but instead stared viciously. Sighing, she took a careful step closer; vividly terrified that he might throw her just as easily as he sent the clipboard flying across the room. Even in this state, he was stronger than Audrey expected him to be. Finally with enough courage, she placed the small ripped page on the table next to the Elven-King and held the clipboard to her chest. "You're being released today, Thranduil. They will transport you to a shelter here in the city. If you hated being in the hospital you'll hate the shelter even more." Audrey tried to explain what was going to happen, but every time he met her eyes she choked up. God damn it, she hated that. Clearing her throat she continued, "On that paper is my phone number. All you have to do is call me and I'll come get you. Just one call…"

For a moment she prayed to hope that the soft face Thranduil held just then was a step towards reconciliation. However when he spoke, her heart sank.

" _Áva quete!_ Don't you _ever_ listen? Leave me be, Audrey… _Heca!_ " This time the anger was gone and there was only pleading. Thranduil only desired to be left to his own devices; untrusting of the woman whom he crossed paths with little over a fortnight ago.

Now her curiosity was peaked; the embarrassment along with the sadness slowly was replaced. Audrey took a step closer and sat down on the bed that wasn't occupied. "What is that language you're speaking?"

"Excuse me?"

"That's the second time I've heard you speak in a different language," Audrey was determined now. How many days had his previous words been played over and over in her mind? His voice was sensual and deep like honey, sweet and thick. "What language is it?"

Thranduil smirked then, mischievously. "It's the language of my people, Audrey…a people that doesn't exist…a people I've conjured from my sick mind."

A moment passed between them. It consisted neither of words nor body language, but all the same it occurred. Audrey felt her face burn red and her body shivered despite the heat that coursed through her. "I don't think you're sick, Thranduil." Shifting her weight, she got ready to stand back up. "I don't know what to believe anymore…but I know you weren't lying…I know…" She fought with herself and the need to say the words she uttered next. "I know you're not from around here." It was the best she could muster.

Finally standing, she moved the curtain from in front of the door but not before turning back to the tall blonde sitting crossed legged in his chair. His hand was propped under his chin and his eyes held a silent thankfulness.

"Just…call that number if you want to leave the shelter." Audrey left the room, running straight for the restroom. There she cried. She cried until her eyes burned and her stomach twisted into a heap of nerves. What in the hell was going on?

* * *

 **A.N.:** I'm sorry this update took so long. Full time jobs will get in the way. I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your support in this story. I scream with joy when I look to see I have a new review after my difficult days at work. If you enjoy, just leave a little note. That's all I ask. :) You guys are amazing and without you Audrey and Thrandruil wouldn't be. I promise the next chapter will be longer, but I felt that you all had suffered long enough without at least a morsel to chew on.

Blessings to all of you for your ongoing support. Thranduil loves all of you...he told me so. -Aranel


	6. What's In A Name?

**TheLadyAranel**

* * *

 **What's In A Name?**

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 _"Names have power."_

 _― Rick Riordan, The Lightning Thief_

Audrey let the rest of the day roll by like a storm cloud; heavy and bleak. Her mind was consumed by Thranduil, much to her dismay. It was difficult to answer phone calls, gather patient information, and even function with co-workers accordingly. There was a darkness that shrouded her soul, and a weight that crushed her in ways that physical pain could never dream of conjuring. Yet, no tears followed that pang of guilt. Not after her bout in the restroom. It was as if her tear ducts had run dry and there was nothing left but that hollow emptiness that was in ways bitterer than the burning, salty tears that should have been bursting forth. And it wasn't as if she had true reason to feel that way. Thranduil and his misgivings wasn't her fault. His problems with his memory, his birthplace, and his current circumstance had nothing to do with her personally. Though the way he looked at her—the way he spoke to her—made it all very personal. It was as if something supernatural was in the works and no matter how hard the young woman tried to deny this, there was no way she could viably erase him from her life. Sarcastically she thought of Twilight and the ridiculousness that it was as a whole, but honed in and remembered the concept of imprinting. Was something like that—maybe not on a werewolf level—possible? Could two beings that never truly had any reason to care for one another become intertwined in ways that science and logic simply couldn't define? No. Definitely not, but then what could it possibly be? She kept these thoughts to herself and prayed for seven to roll around so she could clock out and go home.

On her way out the door and to her car, Audrey's mind was still very much preoccupied by the Elven-King. He had left the hospital earlier on that day; lead out through the main ER entry way. From behind the glass panel that separated her from the outside, Audrey watched with the heaviest heart as he gracefully entered the taxi which was bound for the city, where Thranduil would be placed in the shelter. She wondered to herself if he still had that torn piece of paper with those number scribbled on it frantically—almost pleadingly. Once he had disappeared from sight, she began glancing at her phone praying to see some kind of indication that he might try to reach out for her. It was crazy in itself, because unless Thranduil acquired a cellphone in the brief time between being emitted to the hospital and then being discharged there would be nothing. And indeed there was not. The only activity taken place had been the few missed texts from Mitchell and notifications from Match and Facebook. Sadly she realized how sad her life was. Not to mention her slight obsession over the tall graceful creature that had now walked out of her life for the second time.

The drive home was quiet—normally opposite with the radio or some form of media blaring from the speakers. On this day however Audrey could find no comfort in the music she would normally sing along with. It was actually a nuisance to her ears and slowly she felt a headache form from the base of her skull. For the umpteenth time she screamed at herself the one question she couldn't answer: what the hell was going on? Normally, Audrey was not the type of person to dwell on anything for very long, nor was she the kind of girl to get hung up on someone. Wait…was that what was going on? Was she hung up on Thranduil? No…no that couldn't be, could it? She had just started talking to Mitchell and things were going good there. At least, from what she could tell; there had been a few miscommunications. Nothing too serious anyway, nothing that should have her mind wandering about like a ninny. That wasn't fair to Mitchell but most importantly, it wasn't fair to Audrey. She had spent so long in shitty relationships that she almost couldn't believe she may have gotten this one right. And now that was all going to hell—she had a gift of over exaggerating—because she couldn't get a certain six foot five blonde out of her head.

By the time she had gotten home, fed her overweight cat, saw that Dolly had warm blankets and food, Audrey felt completely lost in her own world. Emptiness filled her home and her heart, no matter what she did to try and reconcile to feeling better. Even when she immersed herself in a hard work—such as splitting wood—the hallowed face of Thranduil haunted her. Like a wicked curse Audrey found that there was no way she could deny it any longer: he had crossed her path not by accident, but for a reason. Until that reason was found out and until the man was aided in mending his broken being, she would find no peace. Throwing down the ax and wiping her brow of sweat, Audrey swallowed hard. The pain in her stomach heightened tenfold. There was nothing more sorrowful than a wounded emotional conscience. If she couldn't do it for him, she would do it for herself…she simply could not go on feeling so gloomy.

Trudging back to her house from behind the barn, the sky turned over to a deep indigo, which beckoned rain. It would be the last rain before the turn of the season entirely, and next time it would be snow that fell from the heavens. The holidays would be here soon, Thanksgiving in particular being just around the corner. All the more reason to bring that fucking man into her home, she thought, after all it was the season for giving. And boy had she given him more thought and consideration than she should have. Ironically it would be the first companionship in history—she was sure—that would have started with pepper spray and a sword. Thinking of this brought a smile to her face, which fell off entirely at what she saw parked in front of her home.

It was a yellow taxi, engine running and sitting rather sluggishly in the muck of the gravel driveway. The little Indian man behind the wheel looked annoyed, perplexed, and a tad anxious. It was the look on everyone's face the first time they met Thranduil. That much, Audrey knew for certain. What she didn't know, was how in the hell he had found her house and managed to hail a taxi to get there. And most importantly: did he realize taking that mode of transportation cost money? A LOT of money, especially with the long ass drive from town to the small farm house. The man was never lacking in his every expanding surprises.

Audrey threw her hands in the air and screamed. "Where is he?!" She shouted at the driver, who shrugged his shoulders and pointed at the meter running in the cab. Audrey cursed under her breath and stomped over to the taxi, throwing sixty dollars at driver and telling him none too nicely to bugger off. Her next order of business was moving to her front door, which was open slightly. Stepping through that threshold, the familiar presence of Thranduil filled her home. It was slightly comforting and all the same unwanted—as always. She doubted she could ever get used to the electric feel he gave off; otherworldly and magical. And she hated no word more than magical. It gave way to the thought that such things were possible, and Audrey never believed in the mystical. She preferred practical and tangible. She found him, resting against the countertop, studying a bottle of wine.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" She seethed. "I don't expect you to understand that your little escapade here has me out sixty dollars now, but my real question is how the hell did you find me?" It was pointless to try to ask anything else. Early on she came to understand that with Thranduil nothing was ever going to make sense and it was best to stick to practical questions.

He didn't bother looking at her, his icy eyes focused on the bottle. His long and lithe fingers running over the printed label, his mind seemingly far off somewhere. When he finally answered, his response was classic for his persona. "Amazing tool, an _address book…_ the woman at the shelter was very kind enough to help me locate you. Mortals swoon over everything slightly different. You share that imbecilic quality with your kin from my world."

It was in that moment Audrey took in everything she saw for what it was, for the first time. There was no explanation, no reasoning, and no rhyme to it. Thranduil didn't think he was something different than a man; he truly was more than any of the people he met wanted to believe. From his slender and ominous appearance to the way he carried himself, Audrey began to accept—if not understand—what was going on. And if Thranduil wasn't from this place, then Audrey knew why he had come to her: to find his way back.

She sighed heavily, letting go of the anger that had been coursing through her. Stumbling over towards the countertop, she reached out and took the bottle from Tranduil, opened it and grabbed two glasses from the cupboard. Pouring each of them a full glass, she handed one to the towering figure next to her and before speaking, took a huge gulp from her own. After this, Audrey sighed again. "You are going to start from the beginning," she whispered. "Start from the beginning and leave out no details. But first…this place you're from, what is it called?"

Thranduil's eyes searched Audrey's face with indifference, the cerulean blue dropping to the pinkish liquid that sat in his wine glass. Whatever was on his mind—if anything at all—was not easily read. He too took a drink, submerged his taste buds, and wrinkled his nose. It was absolutely repulsive as far as his wine standards were concerned, but enough of it would do the job it was intended for, therefore he did not complain. After all, if he were to recount everything and explain the world of Arda to Audrey—mentally prepared for her to deride him—he would need every drop he could get. "Very well," he whispered back, setting his glass down and picking up the bottle. "But I will need to sit down. My recounting will take a long while I'm afraid. Are you sure you are prepared for it?"

Audrey shrugged her shoulders, aware that this was the way it had to be. Never minding the pressing questions as to how he came to be standing in her living room, as if it were all perfectly normal. It was just one of those things better not thought upon. So this was it and this was how it was going to be; may as well get to the grittiness of it all. "I don't think I have a choice, eh? If I don't know about where you're from, I can't help you get back." Did she just say that?

"Audrey," Thranduil raised his brow, his shoulders held high as if he had never been wounded. "Do not take me for an invalid. If I cannot find a way back to Middle Earth, then what makes you think you'll be able to find a way?"

"You know what…" The fire that burned deep inside of her reared its ugly head once more. However, she did her best to curb it. "How about for now we just focus on your story? And try not to insult the person giving you board, yeah?"

Thranduil did not speak to this, but nodded his head and made his way to the only armchair in the living room. Audrey finished of her glass of wine and picked up Thranduil's discarded one—seeing as he took the bottle instead—and sat her bottom on the couch. Quietly she prepared herself for the longest tale of her life.

By the time Thranduil had told Audrey of his earlier life, nearly all three thousand years of it, she was beyond the tolerable blood-alcohol level. None of it seemed possible—could be possible—yet the way the Elf spoke left little doubt to his legitimacy regarding all of it. Especially as he carried on to speak of his more current years, the last three hundred to be exact. He told her of his son, whom he explained was roughly around the age of Audrey—in mortal years—and the dwarven prisoners that he believed were never retrieved from their escape.

"Why did you imprison them? All they were doing was passing through, right?" Her voice was slurred, her eyes heavy. It was the first interruption she had made and the new voice filling the air had taken Thranduil aback.

"Erebor—the mountain…it holds many precious gems…some not belonging to Thorin."

Audrey furrowed her brows, trying to recall their conversation so she might follow better. Her mind was running rampant. "The jewels you gave as homage to Thorin's grandfather? You _gave_ them away…"

There was only silence. A deep horrid silence that passed between them so thickly, one could cut it. Thranduil had not spoken to Audrey of his wife, nor that it had been her jewels that he had given up. It was not something he felt the need to bring up, nor was it something he would do lightly. The memory of his queen was a sacred thing; a pure thing. "I would not expect you to understand that plight. Even my own son did not understand."

Audrey pursed her lips. Thranduil could think whatever he wanted to of her, but she wasn't naïve or stupid. "Your wife…they belonged to your wife…what was her name?"

Thranduil looked down at the ring that wrapped around his finger. How long had it been since he had spoken her name out loud? Did he even remember it? Surely he did… "Tuarwen."

"What does that mean?" Audrey knew no boundaries in her current state.

Thranduil smiled then, just slightly. He knew no one who was named so well as his wife. "Noble strength."

Audrey held her breath. It was just another strange and incomprehensible factor that made this entire encounter all the more eerie. There was no way…no _fucking_ way.

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 **A.N:** Thank you to everyone who reviewed, Favorited/followed. Means the world. Hopefully you all enjoy this chapter. All unanswered questions will be answered shortly, and yes Thranduil will be getting his sword back! So hang in there! :) If you happen to stop by and read, please leave a little note. That's all I ask for in return. Blessings guys.


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